


Touch My Soul

by Aglarien



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-03
Updated: 2017-12-03
Packaged: 2019-02-10 05:44:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12905331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aglarien/pseuds/Aglarien
Summary: A festival and two little elflings lead to the start of a new life.





	Touch My Soul

Title: Touch My Soul  
Disclaimer: I neither own these characters nor profit from them.  
Timeline: In the last centuries of the Second Age.  
Beta: phyncke  
Author's Notes: Written for Elrohir for My Slashy Valentine 2010. Request: family, holly berries, a good dose of wine.

 

The tiny berries cascaded to the floor in a waterfall of red as Erestor carefully lifted the holly wreath from where it hung above the mantle. Carefully because he didn’t relish getting the sharp, dried tip of a leaf stuck in his hand. They were prickly, stung, and red berries all over the floor were quite enough of the color without adding droplets of blood. 

The wreath had been on his wall since before Yule, and now, more than a month later, it neared the date of the traditional lovers’ festival. Time to take the dried ornament down and replace it with something a little more…fresh. Recently killed would do just fine. Like his heart. It wasn’t doing any good anywhere else. He could pluck it out and impale it on the nail and…no. 

Probably not a good idea. Elrond would undoubtedly object to that. Loudly. Erestor sighed. Maybe some elves were just meant to spend their lives alone. Luckily, Erestor thought, he still had his work. 

Grabbing the wine bottle off of the table, he took a long drink, straight from the bottle, and stared at the now empty space on the wall. “Flowers,” he mused aloud. Some colorful blooms forced in the heat of the hothouses while the snow still lay on the ground. He would dry them and they could stay on the wall for the season. There was something attractive about dried flowers when they held their shape and color. He wondered if his heart would hold its shape and color when it became all dried out and withered too.

~ ~ ~ ~ * ~ ~ ~ ~

“No! Absolutely not, Elrond!” Erestor exclaimed, slapping his open hand on the table for emphasis. “I have my hands full with the running of Imladris while you see to the refugees.”

“But why?” Elrond asked. “You would be a wonderful father! Look at the fine job you did raising me and Elros! Elbereth knows we loved you like a father, and you know I still do. You managed just fine with us, even though Gil-galad left you to run the day-to-day affairs of Lindon. He certainly writes me enough to send you back there, and may I just mention that he can’t have you back? Besides, during the day while you are working, they will be cared for with all the others.” 

Erestor scowled at his Lord. It was pure emotional blackmail, and they both knew it. “You are an evil elf, Eärendilion,” he groused.

“Yes, yes, I know,” Elrond replied with a little satisfied smile. “Does that mean you will take them? Two of them?”

“You are taking at least one yourself?” Erestor asked.

“Yes, yes, of course. Everyone is, Erestor. There are just so many orphans.” Refugees were flocking to the hidden sanctuary of Imladris by the hundred. Some day soon, elves and men would need to band together to defeat the evil one, but until that day came, the elves of Imladris, Linden, and Lothlórien would need to see to the living. “The only ones whom I have requested to not foster an elfling are the single guards, since they are away so often on patrol and it would not be practical.” 

Erestor nodded in agreement with what Elrond had done. That meant that their newly arrived captain, Glorfindel, would not be taking in an orphan either. Pity, that. He suspected that Glorfindel would make a good father too. “And we just cannot give any more of the new orphans to the other refugees,” Erestor added, realizing the futility of refusal. “So many are just struggling to get a hold of their own lives, and they have already lost so much and taken in so many.” He sighed. “Very well, Elrond. You may foist two of the little ones on me. Choose them for me yourself, and make them close to the same age, if you would be so kind. And spare me younglings of the female persuasion, for I wouldn’t know what to do with them.”

Elrond smiled. “I am sure you would handle them just as tidily as you did two young and rambunctious half-elves,” he said, “however, I have already chosen your two. They are about five years old. They were orphaned some time ago and have spent the past couple of years being passed from family to family in their village.” 

Erestor frowned. “Why were they passed around and not with one family? That is not a healthy way for elflings to be raised!”

“I gather it was a matter of necessity. Times were hard, and in that way, all of the households shared in the welfare and the expense of the orphans. They were not the only ones in their village,” Elrond explained, “and the number of homeless elflings proved challenging. They did the best they could, Erestor, and apparently the little ones received a lot of love and care, even if they were not with one family long enough to get attached to anyone in particular.” He rose and opened his office door, motioning to the healer who waited without. 

The young healer ushered in two identical little elflings – well, identical with the exception that the arm of one of them was tightly bound with strips of white cloth over a short piece of smooth wood; and the leg of the other was wrapped with clean, white bandages. Their bright little eyes darted anxiously around the room. “Here are Tauron and Doron, my Lords,” she said. “As you see, we have just finished setting Doron’s broken arm, and cleaned and bandaged the wounds on Tauron’s leg. They have been very brave.” She bent over and spoke to the children. “Stay with Lord Elrond and Master Erestor and mind what they say. I will see you again tomorrow.” She kissed each child on the brow, then rose and left the room after bowing to Elrond and Erestor.

Elrond dropped to the floor on his knees and spoke to the young ones. “This is my very dear friend, Erestor, whom I told you about. He took care of my older brother and me when we were just your age, so I can promise you that you will like living with him. He is going to take very good care of you.”

The fact that Elrond had already told the little ones about him was not lost on Erestor, but then he knew that Elrond had manipulated him into taking the little twins. Their dark hair and sparkling, grey eyes were so reminiscent of Elros and Elrond at that age. He joined Elrond in front of the twins and lowered himself to his haunches. “I am very pleased to meet you, Tauron and Doron,” he said. “It would make me very happy to have both of you come and live with me. Would you like that?”

Twin sets of eyes found Elrond’s, and the older elf nodded, encouraging them. Tauron reached for Doron’s free hand and clasped it hard. The two looked at each other for one brief moment of silent communication, and then they both nodded, their eyes wide.

Erestor smiled. He was very glad he hadn’t hung his heart on the wall. It looked like there was still a use for it after all. 

“Are you hungry? Shall we find something for you to eat?” If the twins had just finished with the healers, chances were they could do with some food and rest. 

“Doron’s arm hurts him,” Tauron whispered, answering for both of them. “He fell. And we are hungry.” 

Erestor was sure it did. He remembered the ache of a broken limb from his own childhood. “And does your leg hurt?” he asked gently.

Tauron nodded. 

“Come,” Erestor said to the little twins, opening his arms and carefully scooping the elflings up. “We will go to your new rooms and have some warm milk and cakes, and I will make your arm and your leg feel better.” It was amazing what simple concern and attention could do for easing the pains of little ones. Some warm food, soft kisses on the hurts, and a nice cuddle in a comfortable bed before an afternoon nap would do wonders.

An hour or so later, Erestor sat beside his bed and watched over the two sleeping elflings. They were curled up, nearly on top of each other, two dark heads sharing the same pillow. They were beautiful children and would undoubtedly grow into fine young elves. His heart leapt with joy and he sighed in contentment. “Thank you, Elrond,” he whispered. 

~ ~ ~ ~ * ~ ~ ~ ~

 

“Elrond,” Erestor said as he sat down at his desk in their shared office, “I have been thinking.”

“I should hope so,” Elrond replied with a smirk.

“Behave, child,” Erestor retorted, as only Elrond’s old teacher and foster-father could, and didn’t give Elrond time to respond. “The lovers’ festival is not far off. It may not be appropriate to have a regular festival this year. So many of the refugees have lost family and lovers that I fear it would be a sad day for them indeed.”

Elrond nodded. What Erestor said was very true. “I would hate to do away with it altogether this year, for our people might resent it. Perhaps we could alter it in a way to involve everyone.”

Erestor nodded, and the two began to throw ideas back and forth. In the end, they decided on something totally new: the name of each and every person in the valley would be placed in a large jar, and everyone would draw a name. Elflings old enough to participate were included, but their names were separate from the adults so that each elfling received another elfling’s name. One week before the festival, the names would be drawn, and for the following seven days, everyone would secretly shower the elf whose name he or she drew with little gifts and tokens of friendship and affection – even if it was someone they had never met. The final gift, on the day of the festival itself, would contain the name of the giver. 

There would be materials available in the great hall during the entire week so no one lacked the supplies with which to make their gifts, and the kitchens would be instructed to keep cakes and sweets set out for everyone to take and give. 

Erestor sent off scribes to begin collecting the names and location of every elf in the valley. Large lists would be posted so everyone would have an idea where to find the recipient of their affections for the week. An added benefit would be the new friendships that would develop as people hunted out their secret friend and tried to find out from their acquaintances what sort of thing they liked. 

~ ~ ~ ~ * ~ ~ ~ ~

A tall, golden-haired elf stood along the wall in the Great Hall where everyone was gathered, and listened as Elrond proclaimed the upcoming festival plans. His glance strayed to a tableau of a grown elf and two elflings, sitting on a cushion in front of the fire. The ebon-haired elf held his tiny charges on his lap, whispering softly into their ears and stroking soft, fly-away hair. One of the little one’s arms was bound, and the golden-haired elf sighed in sadness to see one so young hurt. How he longed to be a part of that little group, to sit with the beautiful, dark-haired elf and hold one of the elflings in his arms. With a final longing-filled look, he turned his head back to Elrond. As he listened to the words of his Lord, a plan began to form in his mind….. 

It took a nighttime of conspiring, conniving, planning, and downright pleading, but by morning, the golden-haired captain of Imladris had the name he desired. First he swapped the scullery maid for the blacksmith, the blacksmith for the farmer refugee, the farmer refugee for the seamstress, and then for the guard, the librarian, the refugee healer, and on and on, until finally, at long last, he gave one his guards the name of a pretty little scribe the guard was in love with in exchange for the name of the elf of his dreams. Now he only had to help a lovesick parlor maid write some poetry, take a certain guard’s patrol, help the blacksmith shoe Asfaloth, and put away carts full of books in the library. Some elves were capable of driving very hard bargains indeed, he himself included. Come to think of it, the elf who owed him a patrol could take the one Glorfindel owed. Content for the moment, he hurried off to his rooms to snatch a couple hours of sleep before the realm awoke.

~ ~ ~ ~ * ~ ~ ~ ~

Erestor carried Tauron and Doron into the Great Hall, one elfling in each arm. Tauron’s leg was still sore and it hardly seemed that Doron should walk on his own with a broken arm if Erestor carried Tauron. He found his mind occupied with such matters lately, and smiled. The little ones wanted to participate in the festival. Each had pulled a name from the jar, and Erestor would help them with little gifts and treats for their secret friends. It would be fun to see if the elflings could manage to keep quiet enough not to give the secret away. 

Doron had chanced to pull the name of Elrond’s fosterling, Lindir; and Tauron had pulled the charming little daughter of one of the new gardeners, Olwen, who had come to them from among the refugees. They knew Lindir and Olwen from the elfling school they attended every day. Knowing that so many elflings would need minding if work was to continue, Elrond had set up a combination school and daycare, staffing it with volunteer teachers who enjoyed elflings and were generously compensated. 

He smiled for another reason. Of all the names in the jar – and there were hundreds – he could not have drawn a better one to his way of thinking. Of all the elves in the realm, this was the only one who had caught his gaze in more than centuries. He had nothing to lose, so he was determined to woo the elf anonymously. If the elf spurned his attempts the night of the festival, well then, he had really lost nothing. 

“Shall we make some hearts and decorate them? You can leave them secretly for your new little friends.” Two little heads nodded against his chest. They really were precious children, if a little quiet yet. In the week since Erestor had taken them in, they had shown great progress and were much more comfortable with him. He visited them at the elfling school as much as he was able, and always made sure that the three of them ate breakfast and dinner together. He also ensured that they knew the way to his office and knew they could go to him if anything ever frightened them. At night, they would crawl onto Erestor’s big bed and read together until the little ones fell asleep. Eventually, Erestor would get a separate bed for them, but it was hardly necessary with them so small yet. It gave the elflings comfort to have him near.

When they reached the Great Hall, he set the children down so they could all walk among the tables of supplies. Like most of the other elves, they would take the things back to their rooms to work on. Erestor and his elflings chose paper in pink, red and white, ribbons of the same color and small dried flowers. They also took a pot of paste made from flour and water. Erestor already had scissors, inks and quills in his room, so he passed over those items. From outside, they would gather holly berries and small pinecones, and Erestor would most certainly need a red rose from the hothouses. 

In the dining hall were tables with sweets and pastries set out on little pieces of white paper cut into lacy shapes, and they grabbed enough treats for their secret friends for that day. 

Back in Erestor’s rooms, the preparation began in earnest. Erestor helped Tauron and Doron carefully cut out hearts from the paper. They punched holes around the edges and laced them together with ribbon, leaving the top open. Once Erestor had written the name of the recipient and, ‘From your Secret Friend’ in fine tengwar on the front of each, a sweet on its little lacy paper was placed inside.

Inside of his heart, Erestor also slipped a small paper on which he had written:  
“In that book which is  
My memory . . .  
On the first page  
That is the chapter when  
I first met you  
Appear the words . . .  
Here begins a new life.” (1)

Once the gifts for the first day were ready, Erestor and the elflings quietly moved through the house, passing many other elves on the same mission, and furtively placed their gifts at the doors of the receiver.

Back in their room, the elflings carefully penned a little verse on another heart and glued little holly berries around the edge, to be presented with a little cake. They drew pictures, decorated with flowers, pinecone pieces and feathers. Erestor dug a carved wooden horse out of his wardrobe for Lindir, and bartered a book for frilly little handkerchiefs for Olwen. For the elflings’ gift on the last day, he went with his elflings to the marketplace and purchased a good wooden flute for Lindir, and a doll for Olwen. 

As the days passed, Doron and Tauron squealed with delight every time they found gifts waiting at the door for them: they received gifts similar to the ones they gave and could not have been happier with each sweet or little trinket. 

For his part, Erestor’s first poem was answered with, “I see my fated stars in your eyes. They melt me like the sun does snow.” (2)

His, “In my wildest dreams, you always play the hero. In my darkest hour of night, you rescue me, you save my life,” (3) was answered with, “Your words are my food, your breath my wine. You are everything to me.” (4)

His gift of a rose and, “Dearest, let these roses in their purity, be a present symbol of my love for thee,” (5) was answered with another rose and, “Underneath the blossom, thorns are sure to grow; take heed lest you touch them, they would pain you so! Ah! my faults like thorns are, but cannot they be hidden ‘neath the flower of my love for thee?” (5)

On the final day, the hundreds of final gifts were collected early in the morning. The Great Hall was locked, while a few trusted elves worked inside arranging all the gifts in order of name on tables that circled around the room. After dinner in the dining hall, the doors of the Great Hall were flung open and elves rushed to find their gift with the name of their secret friend. 

Glorfindel held onto his gift, a book of love poems, and stared at the note written inside on the fly page: “Look into my eyes and find my heart; kiss me, and touch my soul. (2) Yours forever, Erestor.” Erestor was his secret friend? His heart pounded, but his eyes frantically searched the room.

Erestor somehow managed to control himself and help the elflings find their gifts and secret friends before leaving them in Elrond’s care and hurrying over to the table with the “E” names. 

He held his breath as he found his gift. A square package wrapped in red silk. He picked it up. A book. He moved the ribbon and silk aside and looked at the title. A book of love poems. 

He nearly turned blue and remembered to breathe. 

A paper. There was a paper inside, on top of the book. He carefully removed it and read, "The most eloquent silence; that of two mouths meeting in a kiss. Soul meets soul on lovers' lips. (2 & 6) Forever thine, Glorfindel.”

Erestor felt eyes upon him and looked up to see Glorfindel’s blue gaze searching his face. Laying the book on the table, he whispered, “Soul meets soul on lovers’ lips,” and lifted his head up to meet Glorfindel’s mouth with his own. And in that kiss, Glorfindel touched his soul.

~Many years later~  
Erestor put the finishing touches to his gifts for his family and set them with the others on the dining table in their suite of rooms. As he turned away, Glorfindel grabbed him around the waist and kissed him soundly. 

“I love the lovers’ festival,” Glorfindel said cheerily after releasing his mate. “Where are Tauron and Doron?” 

“Our sons are delivering the last of the secret gifts.” The tradition had continued ever since the first year, so popular had it proven to be with everyone. 

“To think, I might never have captured you if you and Elrond hadn't come up with that plan,” Glorfindel said.

“You only wanted a family,” Erestor teased, poking the large warrior in the chest with a long, graceful finger. 

Glorfindel’s answer was to pick up a laughing Erestor and toss him over his shoulder before carrying him off to their bedroom.

Quotes and poems:

(1) Dante Alighieri  
(2) Anonymous  
(3) Bliss and Cerney  
(4) Sarah Bernhardt  
(5) Robert Argyle Campbell  
(6) Percy Bysshe Shelley

The end


End file.
